


a name for earth

by regencysnuffboxes (malicegeres)



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angel Culture I Guess?, Eden - Freeform, Gen, Headcanon, Name Changes, Names, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 08:13:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18362096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malicegeres/pseuds/regencysnuffboxes
Summary: It became a real challenge when he found himself on friendlier terms than he’d expected with the angel of the Eastern Gate. He’d introduced himself as Aziraphael, and Crawly had smiled the best he could without lips, nodded, and quickly fell into the habit of only addressing Aziraphael as “angel.”Demons can’t say holy names, and Aziraphael accomodates his new friend accordingly.





	a name for earth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mercuryhatter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mercuryhatter/gifts).



> Based on a concept the wonderful mercuryhatter has about zir OC’s.

Eve laughed, and the Serpent felt a little thrill despite the fact that he was meant to be causing trouble for this new creature, this woman. 

"I wish the other beasts would talk," she said. "You're such a clever one. Do you have a name, apart from the one Adam gave you?"

"Sure," said the Serpent. "It’s H—" And then he choked before he could finish the word, his throat closing and his tongue burning with the pain of the holy name he'd tried to say.

Bugger. He'd been doing so well calling himself the name he'd been given in Hell, but then he'd wound up on Earth as a serpent— _hanachas_ , Adam had called this form. Too bloody close to his old name, Hanael.

He supposed he should cut himself some slack. Kicking a name like Hanael wasn’t a simple matter of getting used to the new one. It wasn’t just his name, it was the very Word God had breathed into the slice of Her divinity she’d shaped him from that had brought him to life and consciousness. Even cut off from Her, the Word remained a part of him underneath it all, a grain of sand chafing against the gaping void his divinity had left when it was stripped from his being.

It didn’t even make him sad anymore, just really bloody irritated with himself, with God, with Lucifer. At least Lucifer already had a few widely-accepted nicknames under his belt when he Fell. The Serpent kept forgetting to a point where his mouth and throat ached like he’d been made to chug ten cups of scalding hot tea in quick succession.

"Crawly," he corrected himself the second he could breathe again, and he moved the subject along before Eve could ask what had just happened to him.

He was more careful after that so as not to arouse suspicion, but it became a real challenge when he found himself on friendlier terms than he’d expected with the angel of the Eastern Gate. He’d introduced himself as Aziraphael, and Crawly had smiled the best he could without lips, nodded, and quickly fell into the habit of only addressing Aziraphael as “angel.”

It worked until their first (and, as they’d soon discover, only) night together in Eden. They were sitting in the grass side by side, Aziraphael’s sword laid out between them for warmth. Crawly had been musing on the strangeness of even having a gate for Eden, or a world outside, for that matter, when he addressed Aziraphael as “angel” again and he stopped him.

“Crawly, have you forgotten my name?” he asked gently.  

“No,” said Crawly irritably. “Lissssten, I’m just sayi—“

Aziraphael crossed his arms. “Then what is it?”

“Er.” Crawly debated what to do. The angel was an alright sort, he was, but he was also a smug bastard and Crawly didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of telling him something Lucifer’s armies had lost when they Fell.

“It’s Aziraphael,” he said helpfully.

“It’s a bloody mouthful is what it is,” Crawly grumbled.

“Say it slowly with me, then—“

“Angel.” 

“A…Zi…”

 “Angel!”

He stopped. “What?”

Crawly sighed. “I can’t say it, alright? Not because I don’t know it or it’s hard to pronounce. It’s a demon thing. I can’t even say my own name, let alone yours.”

“But you told me your name.”

Crawly stared up at him. “ _Yes_ , angel, I mean that name. On the first day of Creation, God plucked out a small piece of Her essence, shaped it, and whispered to it, ‘You are Crawly, and your purpose is to… to…’” He hesitated, casting about his brain for a good punchline.

“Crawl?” Aziraphael suggested with an encouraging smile.

Crawly hissed irritably. “Point is, I’m not being rude. I just physically cannot say your name.”

“Oh.” Aziraphael digested this a moment. A few expressions crossed his face: comprehension, then sadness, and then—to Crawly’s complete surprise—he smiled down at hid and laughed. “Well why didn’t you say so before? Goodness knows there are enough syllables in my name. You could drop something or switch something around, and then it’s just a name.”

Crawly eyed him suspiciously. “Really? You’d just… let me give you a new name?”

“If you like,” said Aziraphael cheerfully, clearly not considering the implications of what he was suggesting for even a second.

“We could get rid of that pesky ‘el,’” Crawly joked. “Take Her right out of it, eh?”

Aziraphael hummed thoughtfully. “That would probably make it easier for you to say.” 

Crawly stared at him again. “I was joking. Are you sure?”

“This is for you, not for me. Try it.”

He swallowed nervously, and then he said it slowly, hoping he’d be able to pull back before it became too painful. “Asszssssz—“ He took a deep breath and tried again. “Aziraphale.” And then he smiled. “Huh.” 

“‘Aziraphale,’” the angel repeated curiously. “Do you know? I actually rather like it. It’s a little less unwieldy without the extra syllable.”

“The reference to God, you mean,” said Crawly smugly.

Aziraphale glared down at him.

“Sorry. Anyway, thank you, Aziraphale.” 

They sat together in silence, staring out at the desert surrounding Eden and the stars above them.

“You could do it for your name,” said Aziraphale quietly. 

“Hm?”

“The one you can’t say.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I’m not really the being that name belonged to, anymore. Or, well, I am, metaphysically, I _am_ that name same as you’re yours, but on a personal level?” He rippled his coils in a close approximation of a shrug. “I don’t know that I ever was. It’s actually sort of liberating.” 

Aziraphale nodded slowly, the concept of liberation for an angel or demon seeming to give him pause. Then he apparently thought better of it and raised a skeptical eyebrow. “And in that liberation, you’ve gone and called yourself ‘Crawly.”

“It’s a work in progress,” he said defensively.

“Why not do what you did with mine? Move some things around. You could be Carly. Or Curly. Or Crouly. Or Crow—“

“ _Thank_ you, Aziraphale. I’d like a chance to name myself, if it’s all the same to you.”

“Of course,” said Aziraphale by way of apology.

They sat in embarrassed silence, not for the last time, staring up at the stars splayed across the heavens.

“It is sort of liberating, isn’t it?” said Aziraphale. “A name for Heaven, and a name for Earth.”

Crawly smiled to himself, moving closer to the warmth of Aziraphale’s sword and looking at the flickering shadows playing off of the angel’s face while his gaze was directed skyward. What an odd angel he was; and what an odd planet where he could meet someone like him.

“You know,” said Crawly, “I think you’re onto something there.”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr at [crowleyraejepsen](https://crowleyraejepsen.tumblr.com)!


End file.
